Avet, Danica - Ain't No Bull [The Veil 4] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Danica Avet

  “Okay,” he told the incubus grudgingly. He started down the corridor towards the entrance. “What does ma fouine mean anyway?”

  Fallon chuckled. “It means my mink.” Grant stiffened, shooting the incubus a jealous glare. Fallon raised his hands innocently. “It is because of her hair. It is very pretty.”

  He didn’t like it, not one bit, but he couldn’t argue. Isola had beautiful hair and he knew for a fact how soft and silky it was. “Come up with another nickname,” he grunted.

  The others chuckled and even Grant had to crack a smile, but the humor faded as they neared the entrance of the tunnels. He had a bad feeling about what they would find and his body tensed.

  Turning the corner with the others right behind him, Grant felt his mouth drop open in shock. He’d expected many things when he turned that corner, but this was not one of those things.

  Ricky and Saga were locked together, their bodies straining towards each other as though they couldn’t get close enough. His cousin’s big hands cupped the Amazon’s ass, pressing her hips into his. Saga’s fingers raked through Ricky’s hair, tugging at the thick strands.

  “Damn, I wish we had some popcorn,” Rosetta whispered, her blue eyes glued on the passionate embrace.

  The bear and Amazon jumped apart as though they’d just been electrocuted. Ricky looked unabashed, although the flush in his cheeks and the slumberous cast to his face told Grant more than anything else, how his cousin was affected. Saga, as usual, looked impassive except for her puffy lips.

  She cleared her throat then licked her lips. Something flashed in her blue eyes, but was gone so quickly, Grant wasn’t sure how she truly felt.

  “Did you find her?” she asked, and if her voice was huskier than usual, no one commented.

  “Saga?” Isola’s voice was weak and hoarse, though Grant could easily hear the humor in her tone.

  He whirled around to see her supported on Fallon’s arm. Her face was pale, but she looked much stronger than she had minutes before.

  Grant hurried to her side, needing to be the one to help her. Now that the danger had passed, he could concentrate on his amazing mate. The look she gave him as he took over from Fallon was inscrutable and slightly suspicious, but she allowed the change.

  “Are you okay?” Saga stepped further away from Ricky as though distance would make everyone forget what they’d seen.

  A fine tremble raced through Isola’s body, but she straightened to her full height and lifted her hand until it barely rested against Grant’s arm. He wanted to protest this unnecessary show of strength, but knew she needed to save face in front of her sisters. Damn, what a woman!

  “I’ll be hearing little birdies for a few hours, but I’m fine.” She flicked a curious glance at Grant. “I can’t say the same for the bear and the nymph, though.”

  Grant interrupted Saga before she could press on with her questions. “We need to get out of here before whoever wins that fight up there finds us.” He slipped his arm around his mate’s waist. “The question is, do we go up, or do we push through the corridor?”

  “I think we should go topside.” Isola shifted away from him slightly. “Dov was in a hurry to get through the tunnels, so whatever’s on the other side could be trouble for us.”

  He didn’t like the idea, but it made sense. He nodded to Ricky. He wanted his cousin up there first to check things out. There was no way he’d put Isola at risk.

  His cousin showed his intelligence by nodding back and snagging Saga’s arm. “We’ll check it out, make sure it’s safe for everyone.”

  “I can assure you it isn’t the least bit safe,” a deep, cultured voice spoke from behind the group causing them to whirl around.

  Grant pushed Isola behind him because he recognized the man who spoke, and he was supposed to be dead.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  If she wasn’t so fucking tired and dizzy, she’d hand Grant’s ass to him for treating her like some fragile flower of womanhood. Bastard. She didn’t know what he was doing here anyway. She’d left him after he’d left her. She frowned and rubbed her temples. Or something like that. Everything was kind of fuzzy except for one thing—she remembered very well that Dov was dead, so she no longer had to watch her back.

  Her front was an entirely different matter. She recognized Ormond Steele’s voice and her heart seized. She was too fucking hurt to be of any help in taking the bastard down, but that wouldn’t stop her from trying. Hells, if she had to, she’d bite his motherfucking ankles!

  She took a step to the left—more like a stagger, but whatever—and Grant moved with her. She glared at his naked back and took a lurching step to the right. Again, he intercepted her movement to prevent her from confronting the fire elemental. She poked him in the ribs.

  “You’ve put me through a lot of trouble, Grant,” Ormond said conversationally.

  Izzy managed to peek around Grant’s shoulder and realized why no one was trying to attack Ormond. The bastard had at least two dozen guards with him. A quick glance told her most of them were a mix of demons and warmages, but there were a few her eyes lingered on because they were so…wrong.

  Ormond waved his hand, his silky white hair fluffing around his genial face. “These are my creations,” he announced proudly. “They were once Halflings with no special skills or hope until I transformed them.”

  He patted one on the shoulder and Izzy shuddered. There was no telling what the Halflings had once been. They’d been changed into something else, something completely unnatural. One had fangs too large for it to close its mouth, giving it a hideous, leering smile. Its large, black eyes were set in a misshapen face. It was easily seven feet tall with bulging muscles and razor-sharp claws. The other four were just as grossly disfigured and monstrous.

  She caught the eye of one of the beings, and there was something in its face that told her it knew it was a monster and hated it. Her heart clenched with compassion. His…creations weren’t the monsters, Ormond was. She fisted her hands and wished she could punch the smug bastard in his face, but he was too well protected. At the moment.

  Grant was naked as the day he was born, but he didn’t seem bothered by it. He crossed his arms over his chest and adopted his usual cocky attitude.

  “What’s all this about, Ormond? You can’t still imagine that taking me out will do you any good at the annual Ball.”

  Surprise lit Ormond’s silver-blue eyes, but it was quickly masked by anger. “Your usefulness ended the moment the Amazon interfered with my plans.” He glared at Izzy over Grant’s shoulder before a smile crossed his face. “Now it’s just for fun. Kill them.”

  Ormond’s guards leapt forward with roars. Izzy, still not quite up to snuff, was pushed behind her group as they surged to meet the attack. Those bitches! She glared at them before she eyed the backup sword hanging down Ravanna’s back. She snatched it out of the scabbard and entered the fray.

  Grant had changed into his minotaur form and was battling three demons at once while Fallon, Saga, and Rosetta had taken on one of the transformed Halflings. Spying a break between Ocean and Ravanna, she sprung through it with the sword raised.

  Her arm vibrated as steel clashed. One of the demons had met her charge. He was a big bastard, but he had terrible form. She managed to disarm him and take his head in under twenty seconds, but that was by no means the end of the fight. Another one soon took the first demon’s place, his battle axe swinging. She dodged his first strike and noticed a warmage just past the demon’s shoulder. The bastard was about to cast a spell.

  Izzy reached forward, grabbed the demon by his balls and pulled him in front of her just as the spell was cast. His mouth had opened in a surprised O shape when she’d gripped his junk, but now it was gaping open as he gasped for air. She jumped back as his big body hit the ground and threw her sword at the warmage who’d just sucked in air for another spell.

  The sword found its mark, spearing him through the throat. Blood gushed and he fell to the groun
d with a gurgle.

  Great. Now she didn’t have a weapon! Seeing her predicament, two demons advanced on her, axes swinging. She retreated away from the others, who were busy with their own fights. If she could draw these two asswipes away, then she could possibly take them out in hand-to-hand combat. Or tire them out, or something. Okay, so she really didn’t have a plan other than to keep her head attached, but she’d think of something!

  Just when she thought she’d have to flash the bastards to distract them, two arrows buzzed around her head, striking them in the throats and halting their advance. Izzy frowned down at the big bodies at her feet. She recognized the fletching on the arrows. Well, hell, there went the fun!

  “When Saga told me you were in trouble, I thought she had to be mistaken. But I see that she was correct as usual. Do you have any idea how irritating it is for me to hear her say ‘I told you so?’” a lazy, feminine voice drawled from the shadows behind Izzy.

  Summoning an innocent smile, she spun around to face her queen. “Queen Albreda! Fancy seeing you here.”

  Albreda rolled her blue eyes at Izzy’s fake enthusiasm. Her queen wasn’t alone and she hadn’t expected her to be, but the people who were with the Amazon were the crème de la crème of Veilerian society. Izzy gaped at the three High Councilors standing next to her queen: Oculum Lucian Ravenswaay, Manu Nila, and Linguar Fields. Her knees felt weak, she was so relieved to see Fields. He was a water elemental, possibly the only being powerful enough to even think about taking on a fire elemental.

  A shadowy figure appeared in the midst of the Councilors. Black wings snapped open as Noelani, Malachi’s mate, solidified. Knowing the Halfling wouldn’t be far behind, Izzy looked for him and sure enough, he stepped out of the hall behind the others.

  His deep brown eyes twinkled as he made his way through the group, Noelani falling in next to him. “You look like hell, Izzy,” he drawled as he neared.

  She grinned at him. “I’m so glad to see your sorry asses!” She slapped a hand over her mouth and looked at Albreda with round eyes.

  Her queen shook her head and notched another arrow on her bow. “We’ll deal with you later, Izzy. I think the others could use some help.”

  “Hey, what about giving me a sword?” Izzy shouted after the group as they entered the melee. “A knife? A fork? Something?”

  There was a moment of shocked silence as the Eturians realized they were fighting against even more Veilerians. Ormond’s eyes widened when he saw the Councilors, and he took a step back.

  Izzy growled. That bastard was not getting away again. Racing to the body of the warmage she’d felled with her sword, she yanked the weapon out of his neck and barreled straight for Ormond.

  Her actions galvanized the other fighters. The Eturians turned to greet the newcomers, drawing their numbers from Izzy’s group. Fields, like Izzy, ignored everyone and headed straight for Ormond. She was just a few yards away from the elemental when he released a fireball in her direction.

  She heard Grant bellow, but ignored her mate. Leaping to the side to avoid the fire, she pressed forward. She had to cut off his escape. With the hall open behind him, Ormond could slip away and they’d miss their chance to end his reign of terror. She was weaker than she’d like to be at this moment, yes, but determination flooded her system, lending her the strength she needed to finish this.

  Ormond let loose with another fireball, this one bigger than the last, and lobbed it in her direction. She couldn’t completely avoid it as it slammed into the wall next to her. Fire rained down on her as she ran as fast as she could through the shower. She hissed as sparks landed on her, burning holes into her clothes and sizzling into her skin, but it couldn’t be helped.

  A demon body slammed her when she was almost within touching distance of Ormond. Its momentum carried Izzy into the wall. She lost all the air in her chest, which was probably a good thing because she was tempted to scream from the pain. The shit had snapped at least four of her ribs, and the excruciating agony in her shoulder suggested it was dislocated.

  Luckily the sword was in the hand of the arm that wasn’t injured and she used it to hack at the bastard until his weight fell away from her. Sweat poured down her face and she leaned against the wall to catch her breath—which so wasn’t working because it hurt every time she tried to suck in air. Snarling, she stabbed the dead demon again for good measure.

  There was a roaring in her ears and she shook her head. Damn, the demon had really rung her bell! No, wait, that wasn’t in her head. She looked up to see Grant charging through the remaining Eturians, his focus on her.

  Time seemed to come to a standstill. She saw the others fighting the depleted Eturian forces, heard the ring of steel, the grunts of effort, screams of pain. Then she saw Ormond turn his attention to Grant, who didn’t even notice the elemental. Fields sent wave after wave of water at Ormond, who just shook it off.

  The fire elemental cupped his hands together. An ember ignited in his palms, and in mere moments, it was a solid ball of electric blue heat. Her heart stopped as she realized it wasn’t quite a fireball, but something else, something stronger. He lifted the ball in one hand, his head coming up as he took aim at Grant, who was just passing in front of him.

  As usual, Izzy didn’t even stop to think. She only knew that Grant wasn’t prepared for Ormond’s attack and she wasn’t going to let some power-hungry bastard kill her mate. Using the wall as a springboard, she pushed herself off of it, catapulting herself between Grant and Ormond. The sphere the elemental had produced went airborne, striking Izzy in the shoulder instead of Grant.

  Searing pain, unlike anything she’d ever felt before, ripped through her body. She was out before she hit the ground.

  * * * *

  Grant’s heart stopped when he heard Isola’s agonized scream. She landed on the floor hard, her body bouncing until it skidded to a stop against the opposite wall.

  Her tunic had burned away, leaving her bare to the waist. A strange blue light stained the skin of her injured shoulder. Even as he watched, the light spread into her torso and down her arm. She moaned, curling her body into a tight ball.

  “Oops. I missed,” Ormond mocked as he called another ball of light. His eyes gleamed with malice. “Let me fix that.”

  Grant turned his head towards the elemental, the Minotaur’s Rage in full effect. As though seeing it from a distance, he saw Ormond throw the sphere. Fields flung his hand into the air, encasing the ball of fire in ice.

  That’s when Grant made his move. He charged the fire elemental, head lowered so his horns were on level with the other man’s chest. Mere feet away from his target, Grant twisted his head to the side, impaling Ormond with the tip of his horn and driving the elemental backwards until he met the wall.

  He didn’t stop there though. He kept pressing until he felt Ormond’s body reluctantly yield to the pressure and he felt stone scrape against the tip of his horn. Ormond’s hands flickered with blue fire as he grabbed onto Grant, searing his skin.

  The flames died even as blood poured from Ormond’s mouth, but Grant wasn’t going to let the bastard go until he knew for sure he was dead. Hands pulled at Grant, trying to tug him away. He ignored them. The need to kill the man who’d injured his female burned within him.

  “Grant, taureau, you must see to Izzy,” a Cajun-accented voice whispered in a raspy tone that finally broke through Grant’s single-minded focus on Ormond.

  He stepped back, shaking the dead man off his horn and flinging blood into the air. Spinning on his hoof, he stormed over to the knot of people standing over his female. He snorted threateningly until they opened up to let him through.

  By the time he reached her side, he was in his human form again. Saga and Rosetta were kneeling by her side, their eyes teary. He ignored them, his attention on his mate.

  She lay on her side, her bruised and battered body curled into a tight ball. The blue on her shoulder still glowed brightly, although it had stopped spreading. He brush
ed the tips of his fingers over her cheek, feeling the heat in her body. The magical fire might not be spreading, but it had already done its damage.

  He vaguely heard the others talking, but his sole focus was on Isola, on the tiny frown lines between her eyebrows. Even though she was out cold, she was in pain. He heart bled for her. Why had she thrown herself in front of him? Did she really think he was so weak that he couldn’t take a direct hit? Did she believe he’d rather she was injured?

  Ineffectual anger filled him. She was his mate, the mother of his future children. She should never have put herself in danger that way. The minotaur chomped with the need to roar out his anger, but Grant held it back. Right now wasn’t the time to raise hells about her actions. It wouldn’t do any good anyway since she was unconscious. No, he’d wait until she was awake and stronger. Then he’d rip into her for her stupid act.

  “Grant, we have witches on the way to tend to her,” Ricky said from somewhere in the back of the group.

  “What about the fight topside?” Saga asked in a hoarse voice.

  Grant looked to see that her eyes were swollen and the tip of her nose was red. She was struggling to keep her tears at bay. He frowned back down at Isola. He wasn’t the only one who was hurt and angry at her actions, her friends looked properly horrified at the state she was in. Ticking off another matter to yell at her about, Grant scooped her into his arms.

  “Looks like Ormond’s group cleaned them out,” Ricky ground out. “There are bodies all over the place.”

  “Any of your deputies?”

  “No, my guys are good.”

  “I’m taking Isola up,” Grant stated as he pushed through the group. It was the first time he really noticed the newest additions. He didn’t recognize any of them, but that didn’t mean anything since he didn’t leave his corner of the world much. These were all Isola’s people, he realized. These were her friends, the ones who cared about her.